


Wrist Watch

by SilverMoon53



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, callum is a good friend, could be read as romance but i didnt write it intentionally romantic, during season 2? after season 2? who knows not me, just a real quick mention of it and its more related to the ptsd than anything, takes place sometime?? after season 1??, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 09:53:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18092132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverMoon53/pseuds/SilverMoon53
Summary: Callum accidentally grabs Rayla’s wrist. It shouldn’t be an issue.But it is.





	Wrist Watch

**Author's Note:**

> Unedited, written mostly in one sitting, first work in the fandom. Self harm is just a quick, one sentence line, but take care of yourselves anyway.
> 
> I don't really think that Rayla is going to have issues with things around her wrists, but she's the first character I've come across who might, so, projection time! I know this is a vent but I'm fine, writing this out helped me. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

She’s not entirely sure how it happened. 

One second, Rayla was walking quickly, uring Callum to keep up. She saw him reach for her out of the corner of her eye, thought nothing of it, then-

She’s halfway up a tree, heart racing and her right arm held protectively against her chest. The world spins, details sharp and clear and distant. She doesn’t remember climbing the tree, just remembers a strong urge, an instinct that screamed _run_. Her legs are numb, though she’s sharply aware of the bark digging into her back. She wiggles the fingers on her right hand, feeling how they move. She lets go of the trunk with her left and and pushes up her sleeve. 

The bruise is gone. It faded quickly enough once the binding was removed, but new marks have taken its place. Bloodied scratches from nights she’d woken up, trying desperately to get it off; skin rubbed raw, trying to make sure it wasn’t constricted; a thin line drawn from the back of her hand to halfway up her arm, made with her blade to prove it wouldn’t be stopped.

The binding is gone, she can see that, she saw it come off, she saw it fall to the ground. Felt it release her. Felt Zym bite through it, felt it fall away, felt the blood rush back to her hand. 

The binding is gone. It can’t hurt her anymore, she knows this, she _knows_ this. 

_It’s still here!_ some quiet part of herself screams anyway. _I can still feel it, it’s still tightening! Quick, get it off, please!_

Rayla pulls the sleeve back up, and drops her left arm, pulling the right one even closer. The branch beneath her dips and sways as the trunk stays still, and she closes her eyes. 

She forces herself to breathe out, shaky and slow. In, out, in, out. Listen to the trees, to the wind. Feel the gentle tug of the moon, even though it’s midday. Her heart stops racing, and her senses ease up until she can make out individual sounds again. 

Guilt shoots through her when she makes out Callum swear softly. Some feeling has returned to her legs but the world is still unsteady around her, so she creeps around the tree.

Callum is still on the ground, further up the path so his back is to her. He’s digging through one of the bags, his movements sharp and agitated. Rayla can’t tell for sure, but it seems as though he is only using one hand to search for whatever he’s looking for. He doesn’t seem concerned that Rayla is out of sight, which she takes to mean that only a few minutes had passed. 

Rayla makes her way down the tree silently, every instinct screaming to be unnoticed. She’s still on edge, can feel her wrist pulsing against the binding - _its not there its fine your hand is fine theres nothing there_ \- though most of her panic has faded, leaving her feeling tired and drained. 

“Uh, you alright?” she asks when she’s close enough. Her voice is choked, broken, and she realizes too late that there’s probably tears on her face. Stupid - showing weakness like that. She should have calmed down more.

“Whad da heck was dat for, Rayla?” Callum demands, spinning around when he heard her. Rayla flinches, not just at his harsh tone but also at the bright red on his face. One hand is holding his nose tightly, trying to stem the flow of blood. His eyes soften quickly when he sees her face, even as she tries to scrub the tears away. 

“S-sorry, I just…” Rayla shakes her head and dodges around Callum. “Here, let me.” She moves quickly, forcing her right hand away from her body so she can search through the beg for bandages. 

“Rayla, whad-” Callum tries again, but Rayla cuts him off, shoving a bandage into his free hand.

“Here, lean forward and use this.” She keeps her eyes down, just looking up enough to make sure he’s following her instructions. It’s then that she notices her left hand, and how the skin is slightly scraped off her knuckles. She rocks back on her feet, pulling her knees to her chest with her right arm wrapped protectively in the middle. 

For several minutes, they sit in silence, waiting for Callum’s nose to stop bleeding. He tries to say something a few times, but Rayla ignores him. 

Finally, Callum pulls his hand away and no fresh blood follows. Rayla can feel him looking at her, waiting for her to say something. She sighs and peeks at her wrist, checking that it’s still clear. 

“I punched you, didn’t I.” It’s not a question, but she wants to know for sure.

“Yeah. Preddy hard, too, so, danks. Really enjoyed seeing sdars in the middle of the day.” 

Rayla snorts despite his bitter tone. “Sorry.” She hates how quiet her voice is, how afraid. “I didn’t really… I’m not sure what happened.” The lie tastes bitter on her tongue, though there is some truth to it. 

“You punched me. That’s whad happened.”

“Yeah, I know that much, thanks.” It’s not fair for her to get angry, but it’s easier for her so she pushes herself to her feet. “I didn’t-”

“Why’d you punch me?” Callam interrupted, struggling to speak clearly despite his clogged nose. “I thought we were friends!”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“Oh, you didn’t mean do? Was it an accident?” Callum was yelling now, getting on his feet and advancing on her. “How do you accidentally punch someone in the face?!”

“I-I panicked, I’m-”

“You? _You_ panicked? I didn’t think Moonshadow Elves could panic!”

“You grabbed my _wrist_!” The words, the weakness, came out before she could stop them, her voice and strength shattering on the last word. She fell to her knees, head ducked to hide the tears, hugging her hand to her chest. 

“Wha-?” She couldn’t see him, but Rayla could feel the tension fall from Callum. The path crunched as he knelt down in front of her, but she didn’t dare open her eyes. “Rayla, what are you talking about? I’ve grabbed your wrist before, I’m sure of it.” The confusion in his words, the worry that he hurt her, is worse than the anger. Rayla chokes on a sob and shakes her head. 

“No. Not- not since…” Rayla bites her tongue, stopping the words the only way she knows how. 

“Are you hurt? Let me see.” Rayla’s eyes shoot open and she flinches back a second before Callum’s hand brushes her wrist. She turns away, curling even tighter on herself, and tastes blood. 

“I’m fine,” she spits out. “There’s nothing there.” Her panic is back, smothering her, suffocating her, she can’t, she can’t-

“Oh! I know what this is.” Rayla can distantly hear him, feel the ground shift as he shuffles over to sit in front of her. “Sometimes, you just need to focus on the present. Take a deep breath, and just be. Just breathe, Rayla. Breathe.”

“B-b-brea-reath-the.” Rayla’s breath shudders as she tries, her body shaking.

“That’s right, Rayla. Breathe. Can you give me your hand? I’m going to put it on my chest, so you can feel me breathe. Is that okay?” Hesitant, Rayla holds out her left hand. Callum grabs her fingers loosely, carefully avoiding her wrist, and brings it to his chest. Slowly, Rayla’s breathing eases to match his. Several minutes after that, she takes her hand back. 

“Thanks,” she says softly, still not meeting Callum’s eyes. 

“Anytime,” he says, and Rayla’s heart swells at the sincerity.

“Thank you,” she says again. Together, they start tidying up the small mess they had made, picking up the bloodied cloth and putting things back inside bags. 

“So, do you know what happened? To make you react like that, I mean.” 

Rayla freezes at Callum’s words, but only for a second. She keeps packing, chewing her tongue as she tries to find the right words.

“You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to. But it might help. And I need to know what it was that I did, so I don’t do it again.” His words are soft, caring, and Rayla feels her throat tighten with tears again. 

“I think-” she swallows thickly, then continues, “I think you’re right, and I should talk about it. But I don’t think I’m ready for that, not just yet. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s fine.” Callum hesitates, then rests his hand on her left shoulder. “Tell me when you’re ready. What can I do in the meanwhile, to help this not happen again?”

“Just, don’t touch my wrist, yeah?” She laughs, but it’s bitter and sad. “Seems so stupid, but I just…”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“Left one’s fine, it’s just the right one. Just, yeah. Don’t touch it.”

“I can do that. And, Rayla? Thank you for trusting me.”

Rayla laughs again, and lightly punches his shoulder. “Shut it, you sappy human. Come on, let’s just keep moving.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr and/or discord if you want to chat or anything!  
> Writeblr blog: @silverssideblog  
> Discord: cloudcover#7167


End file.
